


talk to me

by wyvernkid



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Depression, Domestic Fluff, M/M, the lethargy that comes w depression, understanding sporto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-25 22:30:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9849302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyvernkid/pseuds/wyvernkid
Summary: Sometimes Robbie wakes up and just stares at nothing. Thankfully Sportacus is good at handling these things.





	

**Author's Note:**

> aaa this is the first thing ive finished in forever, its short bc im working on other stuff and just wanted to publish smth
> 
> anyways since everyone else projects on Robbie i thought i'd join the party

Robbie traces the kitchen tiles with his eyes. His back hurts and the coffee in front of him is cold.

He’s only been awake for an hour (he was up at a reasonable 12:26) and now he was just. Sitting there. He had been ever since he sat down with the coffee, which was untouched. He thinks about nothing and everything, especially the fact that he wants to get up and at least watch TV. He wants to do _something._ It’s just hard to convince himself to move.

Robbie’s gaze moves to the table, focusing on his hands. His nail polish is chipped, and he makes a mental note to repaint them. He continues to sit quietly. Sometimes his feet tap on the tile.

These days are objectively the worst, he thinks. Robbie much prefers days where he feels actively self destructive, because at least he _moves._ Contrary to popular belief, Robbie actually does like to _do_ things, but on days like these he hardly feels like grabbing even a handful of refrigerated cake to make his stomach stop growling. 

So he sits.

Eventually, maybe fifteen minutes or half an hour later (Robbie has completely lost track of time in his rumination on the merits of cake vs cookies) he hears the door open. He can hear Sportacus shuffling his boots off (he stopped jumping out for Robbie’s sake) and storing whatever sports equipment he used today back in the closet. The kids must have been tired out already.

Sportacus hums some sort of song as he walks through the house - probably the bing bang one - before arriving in the kitchen. Sportacus smiles when he sees Robbie, sidling over to give Robbie a kiss on the cheek and a “good afternoon, honey.”

Robbie just hums in reply. He lets his head loll to the side as the elf picks an apple from the fruit basket on the counter. At Robbie’s silence, Sportacus turns around with a concerned look. He stares at Robbie for a moment, before asking, “It’s one of those days, isn’t it?” Robbie bobs his head slightly in a nod.

Sportacus walks over to Robbie and folds his arms over his shoulders. Robbie finds himself leaning into the touch. Sportacus rests his cheek on Robbie’s head, and he talks. About his day, the kids, what they would have for dinner tonight. As the words wash over him, Robbie starts to feel a little more like a functional human being, until he reaches the point that he can actually respond to Sportacus.

After a while, Sportacus falls silent. He slips away from Robbie (who grumbles irritably) and takes the still-full coffee mug to the sink. Robbie gets up to follow him, wrapping his arm around Sportacus’ stomach. The elf gives a little laugh, lowering a hand to wrap around one of Robbie’s. “I’m sure you’re hungry by now. I can make you pancakes?”

Robbie buries his nose in Sportacus’ hair. “ _Yes_ please.”

The elf snorts a laugh, squeezing Robbie’s hand before letting go. “You’ll have to let me go for me to do that,” he says. Robbie complies grudgingly, leaving a kiss on his boyfriend’s neck.

“I love you, you know,” he whispers.

“I love you too, Robbie.”


End file.
